


Break Me, Shake Me

by panicparade



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Angst, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Pre-band days, Underage - Freeform, indecent proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicparade/pseuds/panicparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan sighed and squared his jaw, placing his palm flat on the counter, leaning so his hair fell over his eyes. He couldn’t look at himself, didn’t want to remember himself looking like this, getting ready to go do something that made him want to throw up just thinking about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Me, Shake Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Indecent Proposal square on my [Trope_Bingo Round 2 Card](http://panicparade.dreamwidth.org/1616.html)  
> Title is from [ Break Me, Shake Me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYwYFCwdxMc) by Savage Garden.  
> Un- betaed, any mistakes pointed out nicely would be appreciated :)

Ryan took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes. He pulled at his too short t-shirt, which showed off a pale strip of skin if he stretched his body even a little. He couldn’t bend and reach for something or even raise his hand to brush his hair back without showing some skin.

_“I really like your sound man, but it needs work. A lot of work. I don’t know if I can make that kind of commitment.”_

Ryan buckled his studded belt, making sure it made his hip bones stick out. Not that he needed a belt, his black skinny jeans were tight enough to look painted on. His phone beeped and he picked it up to see a text; “Room 314, don’t be late Ross”.

_“It’s just, you’re young guys and it’s not like you are giving me something I can’t get from somewhere else.”_

Ryan sighed and squared his jaw, placing his palm flat on the counter, leaning so his hair fell over his eyes. He couldn’t look at himself, didn’t want to remember himself looking like this, getting ready to go do something that made him want to throw up just thinking about it.

_“Ryan, dude, it’s not that I do not want to sign you guys, it’s just, with all the hard work I’ll be doing, what’s in it for me?”_

Ryan could hear his phone ring, but he didn’t move. He held onto the counter, clinging to it will his heart, till his fingers turned white and his phone stopped ringing, the ringtone for Spencer dying down. Spencer, Brendon, and Brent – how many times had he told them they’ll make it in an effort to prove to him that one day he would leave? This wasn’t about just him anymore, maybe it had never been about just George Ryan Ross the third. It might have started out his dream but it was one that he shared now with others. They believed in that dream because he made them believe, kept on going till they would end each practice with – “I can’t wait to do that on stage” or “I can’t wait to sleep on a bus, you guys!”. His belief helped Brendon believe again and that was what was getting him through every day. And fuck, if that didn’t make him feel responsible for their lives every day.

_“Are you sure? Like, you’re eighteen right?”_

Ryan took a deep breath and straightened up, wiping at his eyes and picking up his eyeliner pencil. He was really glad his dad was not home that night.

_“It’s not that I haven’t thought about it and maybe having an individual conversation might help sway me a little. I saw your photos on LJ, you know?”_

Ryan woke covered in blankets and blinked at the sunlight hitting his eyes. He stretched and tensed when he felt the pain shoot up his back. Ryan lay quietly listening for any sounds around him, when he didn’t hear anything; he sat up; looking around him. When he noticed the envelope on the other pillow he picked it up carefully, scared that it might have all been a joke. Seeing the signed contract Ryan closed his eyes and hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

When he felt like he could breathe without choking, Ryan had gotten dressed, tucked the contract safely in his pocket and left the room. It wasn’t until he had walked out onto the street, that he pulled his phone out of his pocket and returned Spencer’s thirty two calls. “Hey Spence, guess what? We’re going to be famous.” 


End file.
